


Going Home

by thewiselittleowl



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-16
Updated: 2014-04-16
Packaged: 2018-01-19 13:52:09
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 618
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1472197
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thewiselittleowl/pseuds/thewiselittleowl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A really painful Drabble, in which Jean is dying. He's finally going home to Marco.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Going Home

**Author's Note:**

> Oh my god I cried the whole time I wrote this, if you make it through without crying, you deserve a freakin medal. Or maybe I'm just a crybaby. This is for my angst loving friend, you put me through a lot. Little shit (no I still love you Gabby!!)
> 
> For max pain, listen to Anywhere by Evanescence.

Jean whimpered. Every breath burned his lungs, every movement sent spasms of pain throughout his body. He could feel his blood leaving him, his life deserting him. Tears rolled down his cheeks, leaving trails in the mess upon his face. 

He screamed as he coughed up blood, the agonizing pain flaring up even worse as he coughed again. The worst part was he couldn't even lift his hands, not to wipe away the blood, tears or dirt. He could do nothing but beg for death, as the coughs grew closer together and it became harder to breath. His fingers twitched on one hand, but he felt nothing but searing agony from the other. 

'Pain pain pain pain' he chanted in his head, in time with his heartbeat. The gaps between the words grew further. 'I'm going to die here.' The realization hit him. 'I'm going to die, and be forgotten. No one will bring flowers for Marco's grave anymore, no one will sit and chat with Marco, and, and. Mum' his heart began to ache. 

He thought of Sasha and Connie, and the stupid prank they had played on him last night. He thought of Armin, who took pity on him and gave him his towel while he went to get Jean some clothes. He thought of Eren laughing at him, and then laughing at Eren in return as he realized his clothes had also been stolen. He thought of Mikasa, and how she had actually smiled at him last night when she found him laughing and telling Marco about the prank. He wondered if anyone would read his letters to Marco he'd hidden under his mattress. Oh god, how he missed that freckled angel. He gave a pathetic whimper. His best friend in the whole world, the only person he could really talk to, and some stranger would read the special words intended only for him.

An extra hard cough distracted him from his thoughts. He felt more blood spray from his mouth, and screamed as the blade lodged in his lung moved. Just his luck, to land on a rusty old blade. 'Marco Marco Marco' he began to chant instead, attempting to distract himself from the pain. 

He heard someone yelling his name faintly, but his ears were ringing too much to be sure. He thought he felt something touch his hand, and when he looks out of the corner of his eye, he breathes a sigh of relief. 

"Marco... Please don't leave me again." Marco smiles at him. 

"Never again." He promises, and Jean smiles his first true smile in two years, that wasn't followed by tears. He feels weightless, and as his eyes close, the pain fades away. He takes Marco's hand, and laughs as Marco swings him up into a warm hug.

"Never again." 

Eren screams at Jean, as he sees him close his eyes. "Jean! Jean, no, don't go, please!" He clenches Jean's hand tighter as he smiles. 

"Marco... Please don't leave me again." Jean murmurs, and Eren lets go of the flood of tears. 

"Say hi to Marco for me." He whispers brokenly, and begins to sob. Jean smiles, and draws a final shuddering breath. Eren screams at the sky, and behind him Armin begins to sob too. They cling to each other, and soon Mikasa joins them, weeping silently for the lonely, sad boy. The once cocky, energetic person now seems empty, and blood begins to dry upon his chin as his fingers stop scrabbling in the dirt, as if looking for something to ease the burning pain.

Jean's lifeless body lays there, broken and torn, but a beautiful smile paints his face beneath the blood.

He's finally going home.

**Author's Note:**

> If you want to damn me to hell, or request a drabble, you can find me at thewiselittleowl on tumblr.


End file.
